In The Jaws Of Death
by Paelen the Magnificent
Summary: When Aragorn is fatally wounded after an orc attack on his way home to Rivendell, it is up to the twins and Elrond to save him. NON-SLASH
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything. All rights to J.R.R. Tolkien!**

**Well, hope you all enjoy it!**

Rain was pouring down in torrents, and the Ranger pulled his cloak tighter around his shivering body. His boots made strange sucking sounds on the slick mud beneath his feet, only enhancing his misery. His hair was water-logged, and so was his whole body. Uncontrollable shivers racked his bent form as he trudged along the worn path to Rivendell. He couldn't wait to get home to his smiling family and warm bed.

Snap! The sudden sound made the Ranger look up, casting a nervous glance around. Oh no. Please no more trouble. Especially not when I'm almost home. He stopped and stood still, one hand on his sword hilt, the other keeping his cloak wound tightly around himself. The violent wind whipped his hair against his face, and he had to push it out of the way to see clearly. Nothing stirred. Hmm. It was probably just me. He continued walking, his weary form bent against the wind.

Then, before he could even draw his sword, a blur of brownish gray flew at him and knocked him to the ground, making him lose all the breath in his lungs. He caught his breath quickly, being a battle-hardened soldier. His gray eyes met beady yellow ones, and his heart nearly stopped when he saw what was pinning him to the soggy ground.

A warg, large and menacing, held him down with two massive paws, preventing him from escaping its grasp. Aragorn struggled against the weight on his chest and tried to take in a breath, but it was impossible. He reached for his sword and unsheathed it. He stabbed at the warg atop him, but, before his sword could enter the beast's body, the animal leaped off of him. Standing shakily, Aragorn brandished his sword in front of the cowering beast.

_ Where there's a warg, there are orcs._ Aragorn thought in dismay. _Of course, I am so close to reaching home unscathed, and orcs attack._

The warg lunged, this time catching the man off guard. It caught Aragorn up in its jaws, swinging its prey around wildly.

Pain exploded in the Ranger's chest as sharp fangs dug into his flesh. He could not hold back the agonized scream as the warg shook him around in the air, only pressing its teeth deeper into his body. Luckily, Aragorn's fingers still clutched desperately to his sword. As soon as the animal stopped shaking him, he swung his sword at its face, hoping it would connect with its skull. But he missed.

To avoid the blow, the warg let Aragorn drop to the ground, which resulted in a new definition of agony for the man. The breath was knocked out of him again and fiery pain shot through his body, stealing all his strength. He fought the red spots that swam before his vision.

_ No. I must remain conscious._ He told himself. The warg leaped at him again, and this time the Ranger was ready. He plunged his sword deep into the animal's hide, then jerked it free. He watched wearily as the animal fell to the ground, dead.

He stood shakily to his feet, trying to ward off the dizziness and the wave of pain that assaulted him. He leaned back against a tree, praying to the Valar that his world would steady and no orcs would emerge from the darkness of the woods.

His request was denied.

Though the spinning scenery slowed to a halt, the orcs showed themselves. Surprisingly, there were only about ten or fifteen of them. _A small pack._ Aragorn thought. _Thank Illuvatar!_ The Ranger knew encountering orcs would be inevitable when the warg had attacked him, he just thought it would be more than ten.

He fought viciously, stabbing the first orc and beheading the second. He ignored the agonizing pain that was spreading through his body and concentrated on the fight. It did not last long. Aragorn had killed a dozen orcs in less than twenty minutes.

His body shook fiercely, and he knew he had to sit down before he fell down. He scanned the area for more orcs. His eyes met one last orc's, and he knew he was in for trouble. The last orc held a crossbow, a black arrow notched in it.

All he wanted right now was to be home in his bed, not standing here in the pouring rain, facing an orc with a crossbow and blood running down his body. He faced his attacker and ran towards him, his sword ready for the kill.

The arrow flew.

With a sickening sound, the dark arrow struck flesh, and Aragorn could not help crying out when it hit his leg. He immediately lost his balance, falling to his knees. He breathed heavily, the spots before his eyes again. He fought the piercing pain coursing through his body and tried to get to his feet, but failed. His leg gave out before he had reached his full height and he collapsed to the ground again.

The orc advanced on the fallen Ranger, crossbow raised to make the final, deathly blow. Aragorn knew this was his chance. The orc stood within two feet of him, and he knew his sword would reach. Lightning fast, he pulled his sword from its scabbard and lopped the orc's head off, the grotesque creature dying before it hit the ground.

Aragorn let out a breath he did not know he'd been holding. Wearily sheathing his sword again, he fought the pain he was in, knowing that if he laid down he would not be able to get back up. He made himself get to his feet, catching himself on a tree trunk before the black arrow protruding from his leg could force him back down.

_Think nice thoughts._ He told himself. _Distract yourself from the pain._

He barely managed to walk down the path again without collapsing to the ground and never getting up again. He looked up and saw the welcoming lights of the Last Homely House and smiled. Home at last. He thought. With one arm clutching his bleeding chest and the other holding his cloak to his soaked body, trying to keep himself warm, he entered the gates of Rivendell. He had just reached the front doors when they were flung open, Elrond's smiling face greeting him. But his smile quickly turned to worry when he saw his foster son's pain filled eyes.

"Ada." The Ranger managed weakly before collapsing into his father's arms.

"Estel!" Elrond exclaimed, catching his son before he could hit the ground. "Elladan, Elrohir!" Immediately the twins were at their father's side.

"Estel!" Elrohir shouted happily. Elrond turned and they saw their younger brother supported by their father, blood running down his shaky frame.

"Ada, what happened?" Elladan asked, taking Aragorn from his father.

"I don't know. He just collapsed." He turned to Elrohir. "Go get all my healing supplies. And, Elladan, take him upstairs."

The twins were off, one supporting his little brother and the other racing off to their father's healing chambers.

Elladan carried the Ranger into his room and laid him onto the bed, becoming more worried by the minute. As he waited for his father and brother, the elf stripped the man of his boots and soggy cloak. He decided to wait for his Ada to do the rest. As his fingers gently ran through his dark hair, he discovered just how wet he was. Alarmed, Elladan quickly found a towel and did his best to dry Estel's hair and body and pulled the covers over him, trying to keep him as warm as possible.

Just then Elrohir and Elrond burst into the room. The younger twin set his father's healing herbs on the nightstand and sank down on the edge of the bed next to his brother.

"Oh, Estel. How do you get yourself into these messes?"

"We will start with the arrow." Elrond said. "Help me, Elladan." The two of them worked to cut away the cloth from his knee down, trying to get a better working space. When they were finished, elf lord carefully examined the wound, careful not to jar the shaft. When he touched it, though, Estel hissed in pain and closed his eyes.

"Shh, Estel. You're going to be all right." Elrohir said, trying to comfort his adopted little brother.

"Estel." Elrond said, looking in his son's gray eyes. "I'm going to take the arrow out, and I cannot lie. This will hurt."

All the Ranger could manage was a weak nod. Elrohir gently but firmly placed a hand on each of his shoulders.

Placing both hands on the shaft of the arrow, Elrond prepared to pull it out. He tried to steel his nerves, knowing how much pain he was going to put his son through. Then, before he could question himself any more, he tugged the arrow straight upwards.

White-hot pain shot through the Ranger, and he tried to bite back the cry of pain that threatened to escape his lips. But, as his Ada finally yanked the arrow free, the agonized scream that tore from his throat made all three elves in the room go weak.

Elrond set the bloody, barbed arrow aside and quickly wrapped the wound tightly in clean, white bandages, trying to staunch the flow of blood. When he finished, he sank down on the bed beside his youngest. He placed a hand on Estel's forehead and his worry only increased.

The man was shaking violently, a sheet of sweat covering his body. He was burning with a fever and the generous amount of blood loss made him weak. The Ranger slowly opened his eyes and saw his father looking down at him, smoothing his hand through the man's dark hair.

The Ranger said nothing, but Elrond could see everything in those pain-filled sea gray eyes. "Shh. It is all right, Estel. No more pulling, I am finished."

The man seemed to relax at this, and he sank further down into the pillows, letting the familiar scent of his home comfort him. Elrond continued to sit by his son and comfort him, speaking to him softly in elvish and trying to lull his youngest into a deep sleep.

Though the Ranger was still in an extreme amount of pain, he was comforted by his father's words and gentle touch. Before long, the fiery pain in his leg died down and he started to lose consciousness. Slowly the pain and misery he felt melted away, and he slipped beyond the borders of feeling.

** Ah, misery for poor Estel. Well, his family is there to save him. And don't worry everyone, there is plenty of angst in later chapters. This story will probably be shorter than my others will. If you have any ideas for short stories, drop me a line! And, as always, reviews are greatly appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything. All rights to J.R.R. Tolkien!**

"Ada!" Elladan exclaimed as soon as his youngest brother had gone unconscious. The eldest elf rushed to Estel's side.

"It is all right, Elladan. Estel is merely unconscious, nothing more." Elrond reassured his oldest son. Elladan grasped his little brother's hand tightly, trying to wish his pain away.

Elrond turned to his sons. "Bring me some hot water." Elrohir immediately set a pot over the fire and waited patiently until the water bubbled happily. As soon as it was finished, he brought it over to his father and set it down on the nightstand.

The elf lord picked up a cloth and carefully dipped it in the water. He started to clean Estel's cuts gently but thoroughly, trying not to cause him any unnecessary pain. But as soon as the soft linen touched the violent teeth marks on his chest, Aragorn groaned and stirred slightly. Elrond winced at the sound, but continued cleansing the wounds. When he finished, he looked up to see pain-filled gray eyes staring back at him.

"Estel." He said before coming to sit beside his foster son. Feeling the man's forehead, he wasn't surprised he was burning up with a fever.

Aragorn said nothing, just stared dully up at his elven father.

Elrond turned to Elrohir. "Get some sleeping tea. He'll need it."

"Yes, Ada." The younger twin left the room and returned quickly with a steaming mug.

"Here, Estel. Drink this." Elrond took the cup from his son and held it up to the man's lips. Aragorn took two sips before coughing and closing his eyes again. "You must drink it all, my son." The Ranger cracked open his eyes and glanced at the cup before carefully finishing the hot liquid. Within a matter of minutes, the man was sleeping deeply.

Soon the bleeding in the man's knee had slowed and Elrond carefully unwound the bandages around it. The elf lord was greatly disappointed when he saw the short black tendrils creeping away from the wound.

"Poison." He muttered. He took a few leaves of Athelas from the bedside table and breathed on it a few times to get its healing abilities working before pressing it to the injury. The man did not stir. He gathered fresh bandages and wrapped them around the knee before standing again.

"I will be in my study, I need to check some things. Get me immediately if his condition changes." The elf lord began to walk towards the door before stopping and turning back to the two young elves. "For better or for worse." Then Elrond disappeared from the room.

** Okay, I am so sorry that this was so ridiculously short. I really needed to get the next chapter out and I just got back from vacation, so, I didn't really have much time to write. I hope you all liked it, and I am so sorry for the long wait. :)**

_**REVIEW REPLIES**_

_**Guest: I'm so glad you liked it! I totally appreciate your reviews and encouragement! :)**_

_**2000Aerobars: Thanks! I'm glad you liked it! And I do know what you mean. ;)**_

**Okay, sorry about this, but I'm not sure if there are two different people reviewing as 'Guest', or its just one person who reviewed twice. Either way I am very thankful and I would appreciate it if someone could clear that up for me. :D Thank you all!**

_**Paelen :D**_


	3. EVERYONE READ THIS

Okay everyone, I am so sorry about this, but I will not be continuing this story. I know I said I would finish it and everything, but its just not working. I am so sorry, but I sincerely thank everyone who has read/reviewed/followed/favorited. Again, I am really sorry, but this is just something I've gotta do.

Paelen


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